eating my hair and

woke to find i'd been studying anatomical charts in my sleep

want to be see-thru so i can watch myself digest food

which is an endless spectacle and which will ruin me

due to

only eating what is digested most spectacularly

which is what puts up the most fight to being digested

which if not the healthiest diet is the unhealthiest of all diets

will i deliberately induce 'pathological' gastrointestinal states for sport

want to remove my intestines and keep them in an aquarium on a shelf by my bed, feeding them whatever such as ice cubes, old papers i spilled coffee on, and laundry detergent

and somehow this will be good

want to remove my lungs and drag them like kites thirty feet over my head thru cleanest air, shit talking everything but only birds can hear

want my eyes to be moons orbiting me until in 'freak accident' they collide cornea to cornea and i lose my mind in subsequent 'out-of-control' feedback loop

also want my penis to occasionally 'vanish' and reappear briefly in various places within a ten foot radius

but above all want to explode and for each shred of meat to inherit full and independent sentience and want the meats to found a research laboratory in my apartment and work very hard for years on problem of how to reconstitute me but ultimately decide i'm not worth it

then the meats leave the laboratory and are eaten by birds and feral cats

not sure where i'm going with this, i think what i'm really trying to say is i want all my bones to be one gigantic bone like a fruit pit however that is possible

worked on set theory problems, was preoccupied with symbols and peculiar thoughts and certainties then finished and looked and saw three hours had passed

which i like, time seeming to pass quicker or all at once

but mathematics is frustrating

seems like good students of mathematics probably find difficulties in the structure of things 'exhilarating' and are motivated by a love for the limitless variety and complexity of all difficulties existing in the structure of things

whereas i am very frustrated and feel most like having crying jags due to difficulties in the structure of things

i continue to study mathematics because of inertia and because it seems beautiful and 'pure' in a way that i alternately appreciate / am defeated by and because i want to finish a degree already

i have three transfers and twice 'dropped out' — once of illness, once because i couldn't get over images of illness spreading to fill every space on campus — and this somehow makes it seem important to finish a degree already

and find other ways of causing feelings of 'time passing all at once'

for instance

if i could sleep all day indefinitely waking one minute every 8 - 12 hours to see what time has passed and how the light has changed and maybe record this in a notebook briefly / using shorthand

i would do that

until like the giant worm in super-frog saves tokyo my brain turns into jelly and

he probably isn’t thinking anything at all, just lying there and feeling every little rumble and reverberation that comes his way, absorbing them into his body and storing them up 

seems good but impossible

which i read years ago and now remember

notes not by our hand and

we sit with our ski jackets on indoors because we find ourselves suddenly and unaccountably very cold

the thermostat reads twenty-two and we have forgotten how to convert to fahrenheit again

we aren't sure of anything

. . .

we have not yet been successful in committing to any moral system

due to the absence of

an absolute morally neutral action or state

such as

'supine doing and thinking nothing voluntary until expiring'

which does not have the moral weight of for example suicide

because it has no moral weight

and is in symbols a zero

which is a recent invention in numbers

and fertile we think

. . .

the first person plural

helps me feel that the writing

is something that is happening comprehensively

not only as an enumerated history

but within moments a spatial extension

staked variously by actors and the boundaries of which describe

a place

for all of our things

and towards which goal

offer small but promising returns

for a long time the 'basic element' of relationships with other people for me was to 'impress' them

childhood and adolescence

less charitably the basic element of other people for me was 'how can i defeat them'

this was terrible and i was a shit and lonely and i did not like my friends

and gradually i thought i should only 'accept' people

totally and passively

which engenders many and lame tepid friendships which could not sustain 'love' or any very strong emotions

and i gave up then because the texture of everything felt the same

and when i met people

i asked many questions

and this was forced and this was as unbalanced as before

then there is a long absence in this history

and i don't know what happened then

now i feel like i should only 'share' / 'encourage'

like the most important thing is to try to understand how a person sees themselves and to appreciate very hard & vocally all the ways they succeed in that image

and to understand each 'flaw'

as just another manifestation of being (which is complex)

without innate value more or less than any other thing

and i should share and encourage with no necessary expectation of return

sometimes i feel bad for the innumerable honest things i could have but did not say to my last girlfriend (we don't talk anymore)

which would have made her feel good or better about herself and her actions thoughts habits body and many many fears

i remember her eyes squinted and dripping in the shower, her hair flattened and her hands folded just below her belly, and she laughed and filled her mouth under the spray and she spit water at our faces

i said a few good things, i don't know why not more

possibly i thought she would not believe me and then not trust me and then not like me anymore

kind of fucked

and a failure of 'encouragement'

'encouragement' seems a good value and i will hold on to it and if i can i think i will be better

might delete this i don't know, becomes increasingly inaccurate with time

slept thru my classes today which is bad

still feeling 'residual' shame

what is my problem, i have no problems

i have some problems, they are very nice problems and more pleasing than other problems i could have which i would not like

feel unsure as to the meaning of feeling good about doing anything not directed toward resolution of very broad and complex and seemingly intractable failures to provide or allow among other things food shelter care and security from violence for very high numbers and percentages of humans against which i lack even basic technical competence such as in matters of agriculture irrigation water sanitization waste disposal medical treatment medical advance energy production research and policy and trade and governance and all technological and epistemic refinement and many other things which i have gotten confused trying to list but which generally can help people

and i just leave it nebulous and opaque

and lie on my bed in the dark or with the lights on thinking about everything that has ever happened and how it is no longer happening and how we are so fucked because of this

very irresponsible

really don't want to be at school right now

honestly feel bad sometimes that people have to see me

like due to ignorance and neglect of ignorance

i am doing everything wrong

and making everything terrible

for everybody

which is actually really narcissistic so i have been trying to 'dissociate' in these situations and focus on the most prominent immediate external sensations

such as

everybody

and the vague arrangement of overhead fluorescent lights in the dull-worn linoleum

and the pendulous weight of my bag

and the excerpts of conversations overheard which collated with other sensations and the quality of light and sense of location become in me a totally unique and never before existing coherent and non-reproducible monologue owing to impossibility of anyone else occupying exact same space / time as me

and i focus on these sensations and can in this way feel that these sensations are all that i exist as

i don't think 'i am only these sensations'

i sort of stop thinking in favor of them

and then my body which contains my mind is just one of many things that i have not noticed yet

i don't know if maybe this is irresponsible

borges wrote in an essay about this i think

I, as I write this, am only a certainty that seeks out the words that are most apt to compel your attention — that proposition and a few muscular sensations and the sight of the limpid branches that the trees place outside my window . . .

so maybe it is only this recount of worry that is narcissistic and irresponsible

and located somewhere between them is my failure to do / feel able to do anything of or toward any consequence in helping anyone

i don't know i am very confused and it seems like this confusion is also irresponsible and an excuse in the way you can hide in blankets and the blankets can feel very safe though they are not safe at all and you know that

i don't know this post feels 'indulgent' and 'juvenile'

walked home against the wind thru snow except the flakes were small and hard like carbonation

there were no sidewalks only deposits of ice marbled soot-gray on which i climbed and stood waiting to cross well above eye level of motorists engaged on very clean painted asphalt and their polite exhausts because there were no curbs to stand at either

very tired then and felt my face was grimacing and tried to affect a neutral expression and fell asleep a little

being so tired feels like many things i tried to describe

thermal noise spreading just behind my forehead in the sinuses there maybe

a bitter taste also felt in my teeth

and the last autumn air of the early cold days which smell like frost and intimate 'extreme weather conditions'

i used to have migraines and the feelings seem similar to the pre-migraine 'aura' except without temporary blindness

it is a tangled sensation and pretty smooth until i try to separate it

finding not just the above but other feelings too, overlaid but cyclic & of incommensurate periods

sifting thru this concentrating on each component feeling in turn

which overdone then overwhelms

and the feeling is a tyrant and the body is a natural disaster like lava streaming thru LA

in that one movie

backing off but i am sifting this when i have the nerve in hopes of finding something in it to 'enjoy'

while still remaining conscious

something maybe curious & traceable

which would bolster my confidence

to be more often sifting thru perception of unavoidable immediate internal processes for something in them to enjoy while still remaining conscious which seems healthy possibly

feeling terrified imagining doing anything

we still do things

just

terrified

feels like we are boring through a snow obscurant but uniformly illuminated — it is luminescent and featureless and a tunnel without our intention opens, summing all our body shaped hollows made passing further directionless past each moment, and this tunnel is inadequately braced and this tunnel threatens collapse and this tunnel has been named and charted

we are okay if i do not turn around, if i do not turn and beat with our fists and cave the passage in

but we are terrified

voices will carry through the tunnel from behind and circle us, they will be well rehearsed for the ink welling in our ears

voices will carry through the tunnel and be irresistible and i will return

but even crawling backwards my shape has changed too much

the tunnel fits poorly and when i pass i will rake the sides and the snow will run

and the tunnel will vanish

uniformly

and heavy with us

press my face into a pillow and watch another pillow with the lights still on and an ant climbs across this pillow

pick up the pillow and use my thumb and index finger to teleport the ant across my room

be reasonably confident this does not injure the ant and imagine several hundred ants in my room climbing toward me and imagine i am pausing many times every second to flick another ant across my room

imagine each one of hundreds of ants having the experience of uneventful protracted toil that is reset in an instant and then begun again immediately

imagine i am having the experience of frenzied interminable toil while 'flicking ants across my room' with only very brief instants of respite

this seems funny

the ant returns and climbs an almond-milk colored pillow parted from my mattress

the ant stops and casts a very tiny shadow against which the shadows cast by the folds of the pillow case seem enormous

imagine reaching out and crushing the ant between my thumb and index finger

feel giddy as if imagining we are eating and very plausibly reaching out and breaking ice off a mountain peak for use in cooling my coffee just a little

imagine using my entire fist to punch the ant, imagine punching the ant all the way through the pillow without damaging the pillow somehow

watch the ant largely motionless for upwards of a quarter of an hour and the ant stands largely motionless on the pillow for upwards of a quarter of an hour and the pillow presses its image into my retinae so that when you close my eyes i see its haphazard topography still in inverse colors and the single white grain where a very tiny shadow casts the ant

seems like being 'detached' is impossible

that actually it is being very attentive to other less obvious / tangible / separable configurations & processes

seems impossible to 'not perceive' the world

seems impossible to not always be contributing to the downfall of something

i don't know

it is snowing a lot right now and

ash laden winds attend the university, save seats for each other, talk in their sleep during lectures; red-faced patrons of the local restaurants bury their leftovers in the drifts, exchange goodbyes, and leave in no direction, dragging toppled branches; the traffic lights we think tap out blizzard warnings in morse code, the blizzard warnings are updated by the hour, like smoke signals the blizzard warnings cascade down route one and many small animals clot in its arteries and think about becoming ice on a molecular level; airplanes have begun independently to salt the roofs of apartment buildings and athletic complexes, people are confused by this motion, people are affixing plows to stationary objects and feeling good about this, a lot of things are exploding in very slow motion

seems 'tedious', i don't know, seems like the bleachers just within the whiteout distance have stood on end and spell out the word TEDIOUS very big and by sheer coincidence

i try to do it in one smooth motion

in one smooth motion i disconnect all the bones in my body from all the other bones in my body

now i am held together only by incredible muscles

which are incredible for persisting despite near total negligence

except in highly specific circumstances such as

worrying about my future

and depressing this sequence of letters into a computer keyboard

and stretching my skin from all directions until it is a translucent fabric covering all possible surfaces in my apartment

now i am incredible muscles and blood vessels and internal organs rolling about in a deflated space shuttle parachute which covers all possible surfaces in my apartment

i am a very small volume of garbage

in the pursed corner of a garbage bag

that could hold a considerably greater volume of garbage

but doesn't

i am rearranging certain of my bones

to assemble an automaton

utilizing my teeth and my eye sockets and my breast bone

which once completed

will consume you and me

and reconstitute us

as electromagnetic radiation

observed by astronomers

from a body on or very near to

the boundary

of an expanding universe

i am very excited by my plan

i want my plan to work very much however i am not that hopeful

pamphlets etc

watch shadow cast on tall apartment building by adjacent tall apartment building

understand the scale of this world

fly to each window, watch occupants, breathe warm breath on windows, leave personalized messages

fly to each window, breathe super heated breath, melt windows to quartz and reshape into solid glass spheres, roll spheres across carpeted apartment floors

watch shadow cast on tall apartment building by your elevated body

understand the scale of this world in relation to the scale of your body

smash apartment buildings to rubble with fists

rest

breathe super heated breath on rubble, melt rubble, reshape into solid concrete cube

understand the proportion of space over matter in this world

swallow concrete cube whole, sleep for one hundred million years, understand length of human life span relative to motion of tectonic plates and formation of mountains

smash all mountains to rubble with fists

fly into outer space, fly to the edge of the universe, understand the expansion of the universe

rest there

fly back to earth, crush earth, leave earth, die in supernova, become black hole, swallow all matter

when the class bristles too early to leave, before our professor raises his voice, i want to run to the front and shake his hand and clap his shoulder and say, hey, that's good, that's so good, you did great, congratulations, you're all right

whatever the professor says, i want to yell THAT'S SO INCREDIBLE and tear my notes in amazement and climb four or five rows below me on seat backs and arm rests and kind of fall a lot and try to run away and push on the wrong door and push for obviously longer than it takes to find out it's locked and cross the floor and almost get out except be told no that's a fire door it will set off alarms and then i want to go back to my seat and be quiet

i want to get up and clear my throat and tell everyone how i used to be so smart but i am really dumb now and tell them how i wear down sharp points and look too much at lights and reflections and blank exteriors and get lost daily due to a poor grasp of the operations in door knobs and latches and coin changers and electronic keypads and commercial transactions and topics of conversation and i want to sit down largely ignored

i want to raise my hand all the time but i don't have anything to say

i want to raise my hand and say something very very long and enunciated and completely incoherent and look really expectant and open afterward

i want to leave class early and come back and say sorry i thought i had the wrong room and sit down and take notes

i want to stand by the other blackboard and copy all the mathematics our professor writes on his blackboard onto my blackboard exactly until they are both full and then we exchange places

i want to sit in one classroom for twelve hours a day and attend whatever classes happen around me

i want to attend all of my classes simultaneously

i want to be a part of elaborate operations largely unnoticed and symbolic

i want to invent elaborate operations that arrange matter & experience into completely novel symbolic structures

i want to invent elaborate operations the apprehension of which creates completely novel structures in your mind for arranging matter & experience

i want to raise my hand and answer the question and tell everyone how i am so smart for knowing the answer to the question but wait and apologize and say no sorry i lied i'm really dumb actually sorry and sit down

monday, february 1

picking coffee grit of a burst filter out from my mouth. i keep drinking this coffee, i am drinking it well past what is probably considered 'unacceptable'

writing this against my own thoughts, something goes wrong in my thinking, everything is too assured & implacable & deaf

i think have too much regard for my authority on the complex of emotion / cognition / sensation => reaction / event => history & potential + milieu variously addressed as 'me', 'my life', and as a certain fragmentary permutation of 'human nature' or 'reality' or 'the universe'

a privileged vantage does not imply infallibility or even accuracy, why can't i really understand this

i am often wary => therefore dismissive of interpretive biography -- are the foundations & inner invisible arrangement of X really so & so explicable? -- without considering that anything X could write of it would be equally false, or equally true: it can't be evaluated

it is an observer effect kind of

it is a problem of simulation / embodiment

a thought process is examined by other thought processes, which displace the thought process and 'beg the question'

feeling bad about 'how i am', generally / habitually / conclusively, is an arrogance i think, and it implies a sort of comprehensive study / refined intuition i am frankly incapable of

at this point overly dramatic thoughts occur to me, lurid:

• 'self' is a false construction, held only under fevered contortion
• and self-reflection is really another sort of perception, like sight or memory
• and the miasmic unlifting condemnation / precipitating taxonomy i see myself refracted thru is just the obscurent inverse after-image of once catching something in me too horribly bright but which has now safely set

which culminate overwrought & exaggerated, if i find it hard to hold in my mind, calm & level, the inevitability of eventually not existing, if it is easier to admit the innumerable threads to nonexistence that trace about & swadle & tempt to picking, continuously, of indefatigable cloth, then it is that accident & intention are not the threat to the invariability / analytic-closed-form my judgement presupposes, not like that of an innate / inexorable / unaccountable expiration

in symbols

i) the derivative of time == is ==> disintegration

ii) and this moment == is ==> never going to happen again

iii) ∴ my feeling bad about 'how i am' == manifests ==> the historian's fallacy

and okay this post is too much